


Sun

by RocketBabydoll



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, M/M, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Not tagging relationships until they interact in the fic, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2019-08-26 13:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16682140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocketBabydoll/pseuds/RocketBabydoll
Summary: Surviving the Entity's sadistic Trials isn't so bad as long as you have good friends and a song in your heart, but what happens when that same song draws the wrong kind of attention, and what happens when your friend Dwight won't shut up about a battered journal he found at the bottom of the Bloodweb?This fic is gonna be really lax about canon details, because let's be honest, so are the devs. Everyone is gonna be in here, but most people won't have a lot of lines unless I tag them by name, and I'm not gonna tag all the relationships until there's actual content in the fic for each one. This is my first fic, so feedback and patience are appreciated. May your killers be kind and your survivors be sweet!





	1. Dead is the New Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surviving the Entity's sadistic Trials isn't so bad as long as you have good friends and a song in your heart, but what happens when that same song draws the wrong kind of attention, and what happens when your friend Dwight won't shut up about a battered journal he found at the bottom of the Bloodweb?
> 
> This fic is gonna be really lax about canon details, because let's be honest, so are the devs. Everyone is gonna be in here, but most people won't have a lot of lines unless I tag them by name, and I'm not gonna tag all the relationships until there's actual content in the fic for each one. This is my first fic, so feedback and patience are appreciated. May your killers be kind and your survivors be sweet!
> 
> EDIT: Oh fuck, oh shit! The devs heard me and they're cracking down. Don't worry, though, Dave Richard can kill me but he can't kill my headcanons. Aka the flood of canon details later this year shouldn't affect the trajectory of this fic at all.

Nimble fingers, calloused from years of playing the guitar, frantically fiddled with wires and tubing. Two, four, six sets of pistons pumping. A gas line came loose too close to a spark, but Kate caught it and screwed it in quickly so that the generator began humming at the same time as Dwight dialed in the programming to divert power to the exit gates. A triumphant horn blared their success and they dashed to the closeby steel gate, Dwight holding down the lever that completed the circuit and allowed the doors to open. Too slowly, it drew power from the generators. The Huntress was coming.

Kate could hear her heartbeat pound in her ears, a gruesome and primal fear that the killer was close. It sort of thrilled her. She ducked behind a brick wall and watched as Meg used the momentum of being struck by the Huntress to approach the doors. It was close, but she would make it - unless Dwight let go, which he did. Kate swore and sprinted to the switch, throwing it as the giant metal door slid open. She dashed inside, looking back to see Meg hauled up onto the Huntress’s back. Dwight was quick to run for the Fog while the Huntress carried Meg away, but Kate grabbed his arm.

“What if she gets hooked?” she hissed.

“That’s her problem. She lead the killer to us,” Dwight growled back, continuing out into the fog. Kate sighed and positioned herself behind another brick pillar to wait to see if Meg made it. After a few seconds, the other redhead sprinted out into the fog as well. Kate winked as she passed and kept very still until the Huntress seemed to go towards the other exit in search of her. It wasn’t the other exit she was after. She passed the fallen hook that bought Meg her freedom with David’s life and continued on, listening for the hatch which would be sucking in air. A few times she heard the Huntress’s sweet, melancholy lullaby carried on the breeze, but in the end she found what she was looking for. She heard the hatchet a fraction of a second before it was lodged in her back. She squealed despite herself and let the adrenaline of the pain push her forward, diving feet first into the maw of the void, which deposited her outside of the trial where David was waiting.

“Howdy. Meg and Dwight take off already?” she greeted.

“Yeah, Dwight was bloody pissed off though,” David crossed his arms.

Kate sighed, “I’d better talk some sense into that boy. See you later?”

“Yeah, definitely see you later,” David smiled.

Kate felt herself swell in power as the Entity that damned them to these trials rewarded her with blood. She briefly considered going on what she grimly referred to as a “shopping trip” to the central abyss known as the Bloodweb, but then decided to visit Dwight instead. The survivors all had ramshackle dwellings in the woods relatively close to one another in clusters of three or four so that they could socialize fairly easily, but also bug out if a killer finds them. 

Dwight’s hut was a bit more complex, as it also served as a central meeting place that didn’t have the connotations that the Bonfire had. She knocked on the door and she heard shuffling before Dwight answered the door.

“Hey, Kate. Sorry I lost my temper at the trials,” Dwight said sheepishly.

“You ain’t gotta apologize to me, honey bunch, you gotta apologize to Meg,” Kate laughed, “now… you’re usually more level-headed than this, Dwight, what’s on your mind?”

“I’ve just been dying a lot, and…” Dwight paused to gather his thoughts and his courage, “before, I never thought about death much because I thought it was so far away. Now I think about death all the time, and it makes me wonder how I can live like this, or if we’re living at all.”

“Of course we’re living,” Kate said very confidently, “but like Hell we’re alive.”

“I think we might be in Hell,” Dwight asserted.

“Nah, this place is this place and Hell is Hell,” Kate shrugged, “but no matter. Meg don’t deserve any hostility from us. This place is hostile enough.”

Dwight laughed, “you really don’t have to tell me that, Kate. I know.”

“Sorry,” Kate cast her eyes down.

“Don’t stress about it,”  Dwight smiled awkwardly, “Let’s go. I have an apology to make,”

They walked in relative silence through the woods, making their way towards Meg’s hut. Kate could smell the roasting nuts and berries wafting through the air. It must be dinnertime - not that they needed to eat, but eating kept you somewhat sane. There were murmurs coming from inside, as well as quiet laughter. It sounded like Meg and Claudette. Kate poked her head into the doorless doorway.

“Howdy, bitches!” Kate smiled, her orange curls bouncing in the firelight. Dwight entered meekly behind her.

“Bonjour, Kate, bonjour, Dwight,” Claudette smiled at both of them while Meg scooted over to make room.

“Hey, uh, I just wanted to apologize for the trial today,” Dwight held out his hand to Meg in a peace offering.

“You’re good, dude. I panicked and shouldn’t have brought her to you,” Meg stood to shake hands awkwardly with him. Kate smiled. Despite the conflicting personalities and the stressful environment, the survivors found ways of keeping civil and holding it together. Perhaps, however, the civility was a necessity because of the stress of fighting for their life every day - and more often than not, losing it.

“Are we having a sit-down in here?” David’s muscular and shirtless frame pushed through the door.

“Yeah, come on in, David!” Dwight held out his hand in greeting. David took it jovially, clapping him on the back and taking a seat next to Kate. Dwight, who was originally going to sit there, sat on the other side of David instead. Meg and Claudette sat close together on the other side of the fire. Kate blinked a few times, still trying to suss out what exactly was happening between the two women. They all sat in silence, eating Meg’s roasted snacks.

“I’ll tell you what,” Kate smiled after a moment, “I ain’t glad I’m here, but since I am, I’m glad I have y’all for company.”

Meg, Claudette, and Dwight all smiled and echoed the sentiment, but David laughed.

“I’m sort of glad I’m here, if I’m honest,” he sniffed thoughtfully, “I was always a little shit back home and there, being an adrenaline junkie got you in trouble. Here, it keeps you alive. I miss my family and my mates, but… I feel like I’ve found new family here, new mates,” he chuckled again, “mum would have liked you, Kate. She loved music too.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Kate smiled slyly, “I do have a reputation among moms.”

Meg and Claudette laughed at that. The moon shone high overhead when they put out the fire and Kate excused herself for her own little hut. Hers was the closest to the Red Forest, but not close enough to alert the killer that slumbered within. She didn’t need sleep, but it passed the time between trials and brought with it a feeling of normalcy.


	2. White Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a certain bunny pays our heroine an unexpected visit, so our heroine pays a visit to a large, mysterious hole in the ground. Also Ace drops f-bombs like he's the US government.

Kate stretched after waking from a night of dreamless sleep. Looking out her window, she saw the ruddy brick wall in her backyard, signalling that trials had begun, and she didn’t need to survive them today. She picked up her guitar and began playing a tune. She had been working on it when she was still in West Virginia, a hopeful ballad that kept her sane in the weeks leading up to her surgery. Now it kept her sane in a strange place with no medication and no hope for further treatment. Tears filled her vision as she thought of home - her mom and dad, her little brother, and the future that was so close until the Entity ripped it away.

Choking back sobs to finish her song, she wiped her eyes and opened them. She froze. The Huntress watched her, unmoving, her hulking figure cutting off her escape into the camp.  Swearing softly under her breath, Kate lowered her guitar, ready to spring up at a moment’s notice. She didn’t want to lose an entire day of peace because she died outside of a trial. The Huntress didn’t move either, not even reaching for her throwing hatchets, just holding her axe and staring. Kate stood up. The Huntress reached for her belt, but Kate had already leapt through her window and started running. She heard the Huntress cry out behind her, but Kate couldn’t process what had happened.

Running as far as her legs could carry her, she found herself staring at another brick wall, this one around Lampkin Lane. She heard shouts of pain - it sounded like Old Bill - and the gasping shriek of the Nurse. Despite a lack of fatigue, her mind demanded her body to gulp air after her escape. She leaned against the wall and heard a scream as the sky darkened and became bloody. The Entity was hungry, and likely was offered a morsel in the form of a survivor. The funnel retreated into the sky and a moment later, Ace Visconti’s lanky body fell, spluttering and gasping, into the dirt in front of Kate.

“Hey, hey, shh,” Kate ran to his side, rubbing his back comfortingly, “it’s gonna be okay.”

Ace said nothing, merely sobbing into Kate’s flannel shirt for a moment before catching his breath. Kate straightened his collar and put his cap back on his head.

“I fucking hate dying,” he finally muttered after clearing his throat, “let’s go back home, sweet cheeks.”

“Can’t. The Huntress got locked out of the Red Forest,” Kate shrugged.

“That feral bitch is so fucking territorial,” Ace groaned, “you’re right as usual, sugar tits. Let’s go shopping, then?”

The two made their way to the center of the realm they were trapped in, each starting on their own walkway until they had each traversed too far to see one another. Kate followed the trail of her own blood nearly forty stories underground until she got to the end. She sighed and looked out into the inky void. She spotted a bouquet of flowers that looked appealing, so she leaned down to cut her palm on the edge of the walkway. Her blood began flowing in front of her, towards the flowers and pooling under them. Once the platform was complete, the blood hardened and Kate could make her way down and retrieve her prize. She repeated this process twice more for a toolbox and a roll of gauze bandages until she felt the exhaustion of all her blood leaving her. She closed her hand into a fist, healing her palm, and began the trek toward the surface. Ace was at the lip of the abyss, talking with Laurie. When they saw Kate, they quieted down and waved her over.

“Laurie says the bitch was back in her forest by the time she got out,” Ace smiled, “we can get the fuck out of here.”

“Howdy, Laurie. Congrats on the escape,” Kate smiled.

“Thanks, Katie. Sorry you had to escape on your day off.”

Kate shrugged, still unnerved. The trio made their way back to camp in relative silence, on the lookout for any other rogue killers that had strayed from their habitats. Thankfully, the forest was silent, apart from the cawing of crows that let them know the Entity was watching them. When they got back, Ace and Laurie walked Kate home, just to make sure. The Huntress was nowhere to be seen, but leaning on Kate’s guitar was a homemade antique mask with the face of a fox.

“What the fuck,” Kate whispered, her blood freezing in her veins.

Ace and Laurie leaned in to see what was spooking Kate. “What the fuck,” they said in unison once they saw the mask. Nobody bothered to answer the question.

“You’re boned,” Ace finally laughed humorlessly.

“What the fuck,” repeated Kate as she went to inspect the mask. It seemed to be of expert craftsmanship, carved lovingly with paint faded only with age. Her guitar was unharmed, and her hut was in order. The only difference was the ominous calling card.

“Oh, Katie, what are you going to do?” Laurie fretted.

Kate sighed, “I guess I have some new decor.”

“What if you try burning it?” Ace offered.

“Probably send me to the Red Forest,” Kate shrugged, “that ain’t worth it. Probably what she wants.”

“Should we talk to fucking Bill about it?” Ace suggested.

Kate shuddered, “Rather talk to the Huntress herself than that strange old man, but thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

Once the two had left, Kate sat down and tried to calm her nerves by plucking a few chords out on her guitar, but the music wouldn’t come.


	3. Sensual Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kate and Dwight both uncover juicy secrets by complete accident. Bill reminds Kate how much he misses the Conflict while Meg and Claudette remind Kate how much she misses a woman's touch.

Over the next few weeks, the music came back. It was in Kate’s soul, and to not let it out was to strangle it, and with it, herself. The Fog was suffocating enough, and everyone had their way of breathing. Claudette studied the flora. Meg ran. Dwight had his journal. For Kate, without song, there was only fear. Sometimes she thought she could see the shadow of the Huntress through the trees, but whenever she blinked she was gone. One evening while playing the guitar, Kate saw definite movement through the trees. Lowering the guitar, she went to investigate. There was a hunched figure breathing heavily behind one of the trees, but was far too small to be the Huntress.

“Who’s there?” Kate called out, still rattled. There was no answer. Kate rounded the tree to find Old Bill, who shushed her.

“What are you doing?” Kate hissed, annoyed and frightened.

“Thomas told me you needed backup,” he growled quietly.

“Meg told you… why?” Kate sighed, “what were you doing?”

“I was telling Morel about the plant life in ‘Nam.”

“How’s the plant life in ‘Nam?”

“It’ll kill you if you’re not shrewd.”

“Okay. I need to talk to Meg. You stay here.”

Kate stomped off in a huff. She understood pawning Bill off; she was guilty of it as well from time to time, but her nerves were on edge and Bill had scared the shit out of her. Besides, any excuse was a good excuse to talk to Meg. Lost in thought and with the moon hanging low in the sky, Kate collided with Dwight.

“Oh, I’m so sorry darlin, I didn’t see you there,” Kate laughed.

“Kate! Hey, Kate, check this shit out!” Dwight replied, holding up a battered leather journal.

“It’s your journal.”

“No, no, you see, I found it at the bottom of the Bloodweb!” Dwight flipped through it excitedly, “it’s by someone named Benedict Baker. Apparently he had a full-on cabin here!”

“Where is he now?” Kate’s interest was piqued at the idea of a building more sophisticated than a ramshackle wooden lean-to.

“Um… It doesn’t say. Obviously. If it disclosed his current location, he’d probably have it there,” Dwight chuckled at his own joke.

“Right. Does it say where the shack is?”

“It’s… it’s encoded. Pretty sophisticated stuff, actually. But I think I have coordinates! Not that I know where they refer to.”

“To where they refer.”

“Huh?”

“Actually, nevermind, that don’t sound right anymore. You wanna let me know where the cabin is when you figure it out?”

“Yes! Yes, absolutely. Uh, though, you won’t tell anyone else, except maybe like… David?”

“Dwight, I think if I invited David alone to a remote cabin-”

“It’d probably be the only way to get him to go?”

“Jiminy Christopher, Dwight, that’s... “ Kate sighed, “that’s probably true. You know what, you ought to ask him on a date where y’all stalk the Shape rather than the other way around. That boy loves him a challenge.”

“Yeah, maybe. You wanna go looking for the cabin with me?”

“I was actually headed back to camp.”

“Okay, well, thanks for the advice, Kate. I’ll see you later.”

“My pleasure, hon, I’ll see you around.”

Kate walked along, whistling. A secret cabin would be nice. Maybe she could ask Dwight if she could tell Meg about it. For as much advice as she gave Dwight, she couldn’t take it herself. Not that she was as head over heels as that boy was. She simply appreciated Meg. She was the first to be nice to Kate when she was dropped off. Her thoughts trailed off as she saw the copse of trees with huts leaning against them that made up camp. Meg’s house had no lantern light spilling through the doorway, causing Kate to slow her step. She couldn’t be sleeping; Kate heard voices coming from inside. It sounded like Claudette grunting and swearing in what could only be pain.

Kate rushed forward, her only conclusion that the Huntress had somehow found camp from following someone back from Kate’s place. When she threw open the door, she immediately felt stupid. Meg was arched triumphantly over Claudette, whose legs crossed behind Meg’s ass, toes uncurling as the three stared at one another in horror.

“Oh my land, I thought you were hurt,” Kate blinked, blushing furiously as she threw the door shut, a bit too hard, as bark snapped and it sat even more crooked in its frame. Kate’s heart pounded in her ears like she was in a trial with a killer on her heels, so instinctively she started to run. The image of Meg’s form, pale as the setting moon, was so burnt into her retinas that she could barely see where she was going. Through muscle memory alone, she made it back home and sat on her bed, her face burning, her heart pounding, and her crotch aching in her jeans, a dull, insistent throb that had been absent since Kate’s arrival here.

It was no wonder she had mistaken Claudette’s moans for pain. Pleasure was so sparse in the Fog that Kate had forgotten about it entirely. She bit her lip, scanning the wood outside her home carefully for any veteran or bunny shaped silhouettes, and not finding any, she allowed one shaky finger to press against her jeans. The tight fabric jumped slightly at her touch and a wave of arousal washed over her. It had been an eternity. Trembling, she fumbled with the buttons on her pants, grappling with the waist to free herself of the fabric as her panties stretched with her.

When she sprang from her panties, she audibly gasped. The lost time had built up in her and every little sensation, many of which had been mundane back home, sent jolts of pleasure up her spine. With a firm grip, she began a steady rhythm, trying her best not to think of what she’d just seen. She conjured up visions of home - her time on the road, the charming women she met at the bar after her shows, sleeping more often in strange bedrooms than her couch on the bus - and the pressure built. Memories of a strong older woman with a salt and pepper crew cut and a musk like pine and cinnamon drove her careening towards the edge and she burst, shuddering, into her hand.

The initial rush of euphoria was quickly replaced with a cold shock as she looked down. While her features remained the same and not a hair on her body had grown, she was no longer barren. Deflating, she brought the evidence of her actions to her lips and cleaned her fingers with her tongue, swallowing her own load.

“Well, I wonder what else is fucked up,” she sighed, laying down and succumbing to sleep.


	4. Your Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kate throws the trial and finds out that Killers have names. Adam laughs at Kate's misfortune because he doesn't really like her tbh.

Morning came, and with it, another Trial. Kate awoke next to a massive and eternal bonfire, coming to consciousness first out of four survivors. She yanked her pants back up from around her ankles, hoping the killer hadn’t arrived yet. Within minutes, the other victims also stirred. Claudette and Kate exchanged awkward glances, but the moment passed quickly. Adam and Feng also exchanged glances, with Adam simply shrugging at the woman.

Adam pulled a small pouch from his pocket, clearing his throat and announcing, “I have a salt pouch that I’d like to burn, if anyone is interested.”

“Plus rep,” commented Feng, whose face betrayed her mentally high fiving herself as she, too pulled out a pouch of black salt crystals from seemingly nowhere. Kate concentrated on shaping the Fog into a statuette of the same black salt. Claudette pulled a pouch of ivory powder from the Fog and the four threw their offerings into the pyre to begin the Trial.

Kate felt the familiar sensation of pressure as the Fog rapidly coalesced around her, pulling her to another location in itself. She saw their gifts burning away, along with a tincture of clear liquid that she knew would make the mist subside in their destination - making it easier for the Killer to find them. A sharp, stabbing pain erupted in her mind and she winced, though when she opened her eyes again, she was in a wooded area near a large warehouse. Taking a moment to gather her bearings, she snuck into the building in search of a yellow trunk, which she found. Sifting through clattering debris, she fished out a sophisticated army-issue first aid kit.

“A nice treat for mama,” she chuckled under her breath. Behind her was a generator. She crept towards it, hearing the concerning chugging of it starting up. Adam was focused, expertly connecting wires, cables and piping within the machine. Kate joined him in the guts of the machine.

“Who do you think it is?” Adam whispered.

“Dunno, but I sure hope it’s your girlfriend,” Kate teased.

“Just because we were both taken from Japan does not make her my girlfriend.”

“She’s cute though.”

“She’s dead, and she wants us dead.”

“But she’s cute.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Adam peeked over the top of the generator, “she’s a demon.”

“Lighten up, hon,” Kate snickered, “only way you’re getting out of here sane.”

Looking in the distance, Kate saw Claudette limping into the storehouse.

“You got this? I’m gonna go help Claudette,” Kate didn’t wait for an answer as she sprinted in after the other woman, hissing, “wait up, darling, I got you.”

“Merci, Kate,” Claudette blushed as Kate wrapped her in bandages and fussed over her injuries, “eh, about last night?”

“I’m sorry about that, hon. I thought you were hurt and - hold still, I’m almost done - and I just wanted to help,” Kate was blushing now as well.

“Oui, but… you will keep our secret, yes?” Claudette bit her lip as Kate stitched her shoulder up.

“Of course, darling. Now before you run along, who’s killing us today?”

“It’s the Huntress, but Kate…” Claudette seemed to listen to something, a familiar hum picking up in the distance, “she’s humming your song.”

Kate’s blood froze. The Russian lullaby that the Huntress usually hummed was replaced with the lilting arpeggio of a song she often played. The notes became louder and Kate’s heart began thumping in her chest, but she couldn’t move. She heard Claudette hiss her name and swear, but she was completely frozen. This was bigger than the Trial - this confirmed her fears that the Huntress had been watching her.

As usual, she saw the strange red glow before she saw the eight foot tall woman, but still she did not run. The Huntress, too, froze as she saw Kate, seemingly startled. She looked to the side and seemed almost bashful, her posture not that of a woodland predator or a cold-blooded murderer, but that of a young woman caught singing in the shower. Then something in the distance of where she was gazing caught her eye and she bristled again, the apex of the food chain once more.

Taking a hatchet from her belt, she hoarsely growled, “stay,” in a heavy Russian accent.

Kate swallowed hard, her knees feeling like they could buckle, but she nodded. Then the Huntress was gone, and Kate flinched as she heard Feng scream, but she did as she was bade. The panic had subsided into a sort of numb bewilderment. She had so many questions, but she wasn’t sure she wanted the answers.

A crow landed near her and began cawing insistently. She heard Adam scream and knew instinctively that he was hanging on a hook. He knew, then, that she was frozen in the middle of the warehouse. A second crow began circling Kate’s head, cawing loudly. She ignored it, though that seemed to annoy it and its companion all the more. Claudette hit the ground near where Adam was hooked - she could see their auras. Feng became injured; they must be trying very hard to help Adam. A third crow began circling her head, the three beginning to peck at her.

This was the catalyst that sprang her back into action from her stupor. She began her dash across the woods where the Huntress was putting Feng on a hook near Adam’s. Mustering her strength, Kate lifted Adam until he was free of the hook under his clavicle and he could stand on his own.

“That took you long enough,” Adam chastised.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Kate stammered as the two ran to help Claudette off of the ground.

“Stay,  _ krasavitsa _ , please,” the Huntress called out.

“Uh oh,” Adam chuckled.

“What?”

“Nothing, Kate, the thing said stay,” he put his hand over his mouth like he was stifling a laugh, which turned into a cry of pain as a hatchet hit him in the chest, forcing him to the ground himself. With Claudette up and running, she ran towards Adam, trying to get him off the ground. Claudette screamed in the distance and she heard the sickening wet thump of the Entity’s talons digging into Feng to accept her as an offering. Soon the Huntress was looming over her, reaching gently around her to hoist Adam onto her shoulder and put him back on his hook.

“Stop it!” Kate shouted back. This gave the Huntress pause as Adam struggled against the Entity.

“Stop what?”

“Stop hurting them. Let them go and I’ll talk to you.”

There was a tense silence while the Huntress gazed first up at the Entity, then down at Kate. Slowly, she nodded and stepped away from the hook to let Kate rescue Adam once more. Once on his feet, Adam bolted to help Claudette. With a mighty swing, the Huntress lodged her axe into the wood of the hook and sat down on a boulder. She reached up, removing her rabbit mask. Underneath was a woman’s face, worn with exhaustion, but with sharp, strong features. She had piercing blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a jawline that could cut glass. Though Kate could hear her heartbeat thumping urgently in her ears, it seemed to stop for a moment.

The Huntress seemed to spend an eternity searching for her words, but finally chose the three that would change everything for Kate: “I… am Anna.”


	5. Rabbit Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kate and Anna have a heart to heart, and Feng is a consummate gamer gremlin.

“I’m Kate,” Kate murmured, still reeling from the implications of the killers having names.

“I did not mean to scare you,” it seemed to take some effort, but Anna found the words, “outside the trials, I mean.”

Silence fell for a few moments and Anna seemed to fidget nervously. Kate’s mind reeled with questions. The one she chose was, “how could you not scare me? You kill me.”

Anna looked shocked and hurt, “but I do so because I need to live! The Fog brings me sustenance after trials. Would you fear a bear, then, or a wild wolf?”

“Yes,” Kate replied warily, “do you not fear bears and wolves?”

“No. They are simply trying to survive, the same as I,” Anna shook her head, “but… men I fear. Men do terrible things. Not to survive, just… just because they can do them.”

Kate nodded. In a way, it made sense. Still, she didn’t know what to say to that.

“Well, I was taught to fear wild animals and men both. Where I come from…” Kate trailed off, “well, now that sounds mean of me to say.”

Anna cocked her head, “where could such a place be?”

“Well, where I come from, I don’t have to survive like that. Where I come from, life was pretty easy. You still had to fear men, though,” Kate picked at her jeans nervously.

Anna laughed, a hearty, throaty laugh that surprised Kate. “You did not have to survive? Where is this magical place? Moskow?”

This time Kate laughed, “West Virginia. Well, I was born in Pennsylvania, but I lived in West Virginia most of my life. Never had to hunt or fish unless I wanted to. I earned my food playing the guitar.”

Now Anna seemed sad, “and now you are here? Where you earn your food killing and dying?”

“Yeah, now I’m here.”

A silence fell over them once more and Kate stared intensely at her jeans until she heard a sniffle. When she looked up, she saw Anna wiping tears from her face. Feelings wrenched at her gut. It wasn’t fair that Anna got to cry, when she was the one killing Kate and her friends! Then again, what a toll it must take to meet your prey face to face.

“I am sorry for killing you… I was made to think that you would all understand. That you came from worlds like mine. I…” Anna choked back sobs. Though she was easily eight feet tall, she seemed so small to Kate in that moment.

“You really didn’t know,” Kate breathed. What if the other killers were the same?

A horn sounded from within the fog. Kate’s companions had finished five generators and would now be escaping. Kate made up her mind.

“Alright, the Entity will be pissed if you leave empty handed,” Kate sighed deeply.

“It seems so,” Anna said, looking genuinely pained, “but Kate… please… before you leave… will you come to my home and talk with me there? Evan will be wanting his storehouse back, I’m sure.”

She almost spat the name “Evan” with a roll of her eyes. Kate knew that when the trials were over, this place would be patrolled by a killer that they called the Trapper. She turned and nodded.

“Yes, I’ll come speak with you. I have… I have a lot to ask as well, but for now... “ she glanced at the hook behind her, “well, let the ol motherfucker take me.”

“The… what?” Anna cocked her head, not understanding.

“Kill me,” Kate gestured to the hook.

Anna shook her head. Kate walked over to the hook and t-posed, indicating that she wanted to be hoisted up. Anna looked at her, then at the hook. She put on her mask, took her axe out of the hook, then lifted Kate gently onto the hook.

The pain was excruciating, as it always was, and Kate couldn’t help but scream. The tendrils of fire raced up the hook, burning reality itself into black spider-like claws that dug hungrily into Kate and lifted her fading consciousness into the gaping maw of the Entity. Though she could not move her head, Kate felt Anna’s eyes follow her sorrowfully into the void. In an instant, every bad memory she had burst through her head and she fell, screaming and sobbing, to the dirt outside the groaning storehouse. Immediately, Claudette and Feng rushed to her side.

“Press F,” Feng murmured concernedly.

“I-  _ quoi _ ?” Claudette stared in confusion at Feng, losing her train of thought in the process.

“Yeah, big F, my gamer,” Kate coughed weakly, smiling at Feng.

“What happened to you in there?” Claudette demanded, half-caring, half-chastising.

“I… I talked to her. To Anna,” Kate murmured.

“Anna Amari?” Feng smirked.

“Yes, Feng, we are being killed by Anna Overwatch,” Kate teased, “what in the shit are you talking about?”

“Sorry, I was embarrassed for saying press F so I thought it would be funny if I doubled down,” Feng blushed and looked away.

“Shoulda quit while you were ahead, darling,” Kate chuckled.

“Is Anna the Huntress? She talked to you?” Claudette tried to steer the subject back towards something useful.

“Yeah, she has a name. It’s Anna. I… she doesn’t know why we’re here either,” Kate relayed the information she gathered.

“Well, of course she has a name,” Claudette shrugged, “why does that matter?”

“It manners- er, it matters cos- uh, it means that she’s human- w-well she ain’t, but we ain’t either- but what I’m sayin is, even if she ain’t human, she was once. Or might have been,” Kate tripped over her words trying to explain herself. Halfway through her sentence she saw Claudette and Feng’s eyes glaze over as they patiently waited for their turn to speak.

“But she’s not human,” Claudette sighed.

Kate felt her face grow hot. Her thoughts were a bit more collected now, maybe she could try again. “N-no, she ain’t, but neither are we. But we were once, so she might have been too! Actually, I think she was!”

“What do you mean? I’m human!” Claudette’s gaze hardened.

“So humans can run indefinitely, get hung by their collarbones, read auras, survive death, and forgo food, water, and sleep?” Kate crossed her arms, getting sucked into the semantics.

“We don’t really survive death, we just kinda…” Feng tried to think of a non-gamer related term, and when she failed, weakly offered, “respawn.”

“I feel like my point stands,” Kate began to feel cornered and her skin prickled as neither party seemed interested whatsoever in her point, regardless of its standing.

“Let’s just get back to camp, no?” Claudette smiled uncomfortably.

“Yep, I will… meet you guys there. I’m just gonna go, uh, do the, uh… blood thing,” Kate excused herself and slinked away. No one protested. Once she was far enough away, Kate felt her curiosity rising and made her way towards the Red Forest. Once the terrain began to look familiar and the telltale scent of smoked meat hit her, she felt her blood begin to pump faster. Unlike Nea, David, and Bill, she didn’t explore the hunting grounds of the killers.  _ So this is what it feels like to be a prey animal, _ she thought to herself with more than a hint of fascination.

Instinctually getting lower to the ground and trying to find silent footing, Kate made her way to the two story cabin where the Huntress - no, Anna - was sharpening hatchets with a whetstone and humming to herself. The simple tune that Kate had plucked out on her guitar so many times seemed frantic in this moment, either manic or nervous. Still, there was something so familiar about the agitation, the intolerable waiting between trials. Kate knocked on the wooden doorframe. The hatchet that Anna was sharpening found itself lodged mere inches away from Kate as Anna leapt up with a feral snarl, grabbing Kate by the neck and slamming her into the wall like she weighed nothing.

Kate flushed with heat and adrenaline, half-struggling against the grip. Once Anna saw it was her, she became immediately apologetic, lifting her mask off and gently letting Kate down. She would not make eye contact and tried to make herself smaller, even sitting at the table.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Kate assured her, “sorta. Just don’t make a habit of it.”

“Thank you for coming,” Anna said, still not looking up. Even hunched over and sitting down, Kate was barely taller than her, “and thank you for letting me sacrifice you. The Beast - eh, that is to say, the Ole Mother Fucker - I think you saved me from its anger.”

Kate laughed loudly and snorted. “You call it the Beast? We call it the Entity. I just called it the ol motherfucker to be funny.”

Anna laughed cautiously, “ah, yes, funny. It is good to be funny.”

An awkward silence fell over them as both sorted through the questions that they had for the other, not sure of what to ask. Finally, Kate took a deep breath.

“So, are all the killers like this? You guys have no idea that we’re regular people?” she murmured.

Anna shrugged, “There was some debate. The hunters all have places we are comfortable, so we do not see one another often. We were all promised things for hunting, but we were never told who you were. Sally, Rin and I hoped you were like us - tired souls who were promised rewards for your participation.”

“Who are Sally and Rin?” Kate asked.

“Sally is the small one who has trouble breathing and Rin is the unit mercenary student with the severed limbs.”

“The Spirit was a mercenary? And um… does Sally float or does she have a weird hand?” Kate was unsure whether Anna was referring to the Nurse or the Hag.

“No, she was only studying at the unit mercenary so that one day she could teach others,” Anna corrected, “and Sally… well, Sally does both. Her hand is only weird because it contains the stolen breath of all the people she… well, she does not like to talk about her hand. I do not know why she floats, though. Neither does she.”

As Kate nodded, Anna’s head shot towards her.

“You call Rin the Spirit?” Anna cocked her head.

“Well, yes. We don’t know your names,” Kate admitted, a little sheepishly, “I’m sure y’all have pretty uncharitable nicknames for us too.”

“Some do. I did not,” Anna shrugged.

“What do they call me?”

“Eh, like I said, I do not talk to many other hunters,” Anna shrugged again, “Amanda - the short one with the pig mask - she calls you ‘Little Thirteen’ or ‘Number Thirteen.’ Jeffrey, the fat  _ svolach _ with the terrible makeup, calls you his ‘Sexy Canary,’ but Sally, Rin, and I want to kill him or sacrifice him to Adiris or something. Do not worry about him.”

Kate made a mental note - the Pig’s name was Amanda, the Clown’s name was Jeffrey, and the Entity’s name was Adiris. She was fascinated that all the people trying to kill her each day were just people too, with their own squabbles and cliques and stories. She was pretty worried about being a number for the Pig, though.

“Eh, so who am I?” Anna fiddled with her tablecloth, “let me guess… the Survivor!”

Kate tilted her head, “why… why would we call you the Survivor?”

“Because I survived in the Soviet swamps alone for most of my life,” Anna said, a bit offended.

“Oh. Well, how could we have known that?”

“Hmm, good point. The Bunny?”

“Um, the Huntress.”

There was a tense silence as Anna mulled over the name in her mind and Kate worried she was upset.

“Eh, that makes sense,” Anna finally nodded. Another silence fell over them, and after a moment, Anna began fidgeting and humming her old lullaby.

“Your humming is beautiful,” Kate smiled, although she felt a jolt of Pavlovian fear when the humming began.

“So is your singing,” Anna smiled back.

“Next time I visit, I’ll bring my guitar,” Kate invited herself back.

Anna nodded, positively beaming. Kate stood and brushed herself off. She and the Huntress said their goodbyes and Kate made her way back to her shack, where Dwight was waiting.

“I fucking found it,” he announced.


	6. Disenchanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dwight and Kate figure out they might have fucked up, and Bruce does not.
> 
> WARNING:  
> Between the line breaks is a part that gets... pretty fucked up vis a vis transphobia, just so you know, and also is a flashback to pre-Fog Kate's life, so if either of those things would displease you, you can go ahead and skip that.

“My sweet Holy Lord in Heaven,” Kate gasped, clutching her heart, “you’re a bastard for this, Fairfield.”

“Sorry, Kate, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Dwight snickered.

“Yeah, well…” Kate’s heart was pounding too fast to think of a witty rebuttal, “what’s that?”

“Benedict Baker’s journal. I think I figured out where 0,0 is, and we should be able to figure out the cabin from there,” Dwight flipped the journal open.

“Yeah, I… cool. Good,” Kate took the journal. The cipher was complex and she quickly gave up trying to solve it. She handed it back, commenting, “you really have a head for riddles, Fairfield.”

“My mom and I would do the Cryptoquip in the paper together when I was a kid, and when she died, I just got really into codes to remember her,” Dwight shrugged, “anyways, I was thinking… I found this at the bottom of the Bloodweb, and what’s the biggest landmark for every survivor?”

“Bloodweb,” Kate nodded, “it’s a perfect 0,0. So, how are latitude and longitude measured again?”

“Degrees,” Dwight said confidently.

“Well, shit, Dwight, how big is the circumference of the Entity’s realm?” Kate laughed.

“Uh, well, I calculated it based on Crotus Prenn, which is the only other coordinate,” Dwight became more proud of himself by the word, “and I think the cabin should be pretty close to Laurie’s old house.”

“The cabin is inside Fairfield?” Kate sighed.

“Do you mean Haddonfield?” Dwight corrected.

“Yeah, what’d I say?”

“Fairfield.”

“Yeah, the cabin was inside you the whole time.”

“Anyways, no, it should be just outside Haddonfield, and if we’re careful, Michael Myers-”

“Yeah, babey, yeah!” Kate imitated Austin Powers.

“It was funny the first time Laurie told us his name, that’s it,” Dwight pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Would you prefer a Shrek joke?” Kate quipped, though she was a little hurt that her Mike Myers joke wasn’t funny anymore.

“Mike Myers was in Shrek?” Dwight asked, getting completely off-task.

“Yes!”

“Who’d he play?”

“Shrek!”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm!”

“I did not know that.”

“So if we avoid Mike Myers,” Kate narrowly resisted the urge to mutter  _ yeah, babey _ once more under her breath, “we should have a comfortable place to hang out?”

“For me and David,” Dwight lowered his voice conspiratorially, “and you and Meg.”

Kate flushed a deep red and laughed nervously, “yeah! Right. Megan and I. For sure, darling.”

Dwight cocked his head, but didn’t comment on it. After a bit of deliberation, the two decided to enlist the aid of David on their errand and the ragtag trio made their way into the domain of the Shape. 

The stillness of the empty houses was only broken by the flashing of the emergency vehicle lights of various police vehicles. Dwight seemed able to keep his head on a swivel for the lurking figure of the Shape, but David and Kate kept glancing at the cop cars, memories lurking like ghosts over their shoulders.

* * *

 

“I told you to slow down, Katie,” Bruce crossed his arms smugly, “mom and dad are gonna fucking ground your ass from Cincinnati and when they do, I’m gonna take Haley to the movies instead of that stupid Blink concert.”

“Bruce, four things. One, mom and dad ain’t gonna find out about this,” Kate sighed and ran her hand through her shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair, “and two, I’ll have plenty more opportunities to see MCR live. Three: even if I can’t go, Haley can still-”

A knock at the window interrupted Kate’s argument. She meekly rolled it down, looking up at the brawny gentleman in uniform.

“License and registration, ma’am,” the man said, leaning on the car, “do you know why I pulled you over today?”

“She was speeding,” Bruce replied gleefully while Kate searched the glove box for her registration.

“Thanks for the update, son,” the man chuckled, “man, women and their messy glove compartments, am I right?”

“Yeah, come on, Kate, it’s for driving essentials, not your stupid makeup.”

“Actually, the glovebox was originally made to store driving gloves, hence the name,” Kate explained, retrieving her registration and proof of insurance. She handed them to the officer, who had taken a half step back from the vehicle.

“You say that like driving gloves were cosmetic and not driving essentials at the time,” Bruce argued.

“Well to an extent-” Kate began, but was cut off by the officer, who was now in a much less playful mood.

“Is this your driver’s license?” he growled.

“Yes, sir, it is,” Kate felt a sinking fear in her stomach.

“You don’t much look like the picture there, Mr. Denson,” he scowled.

“That’s because it’s not my ID, sir,” Bruce piped up, “it’s hers. Surely y’all’ve seen someone grow out their hair before.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, son,” the officer warned.

“I’m sorry, officer, I’m the only Mr. Denson in this vehicle,” Bruce began sardonically.

“Bruce,” Kate murmured fearfully, increasingly terrified of the escalating situation.

“Is this your…” the officer’s lip curled in disgust as he motioned dismissively at Kate.

“Sister,” Bruce enunciated challengingly.

“Bruce!” Kate hissed as she began to shake and tears sprang to her eyes.

“Well you and your sick freak brother are in big trouble now, smartass,” the officer put his hand on his shiny new Smith & Wesson, “step out of the vehicle, gentlemen, nice and easy.”

Hands shaking, Kate opened the driver’s side door and dropped to her knees, putting her hands behind her head and crying. She heard the officer fumbling with something metal and a car door slam.

“Need some backup, partner?” a female voice said.

“Nah, I’ve got it handled,” the officer chuckled, “this tranny just picked the wrong day to be going ten over.”

The female voice laughed, “aw, c’mon Chuck. Give them a break. It’s not like they’re thugs or anything, just a couple of weird white kids. Look, it’s crying. It learned its lesson. C’mon, bud, I’ll get the paperwork done.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Kate felt a boot force her to the ground.

“You learned your lesson yet, boy?” the officer growled.

Kate was crying too hard to respond, so she nodded into the asphalt. The officer grunted and the foot lifted off of Kate’s back. She lay in the dirt, feeling too weak to get up, just sobbing. After a few minutes, she heard the same female voice from before.

“Hey, get up, kid. You’re making a scene,” the woman said.

Kate forced herself back onto her hands and knees and crawled back into her vehicle.

“Here’s the ticket - you were doing 82 in a 70. I just need your John Hancock right here and you’re free to go,” the gentler officer smiled down at Kate, “sorry about Chuck. He’s got a temper. You’re a really pretty guy, you know? I think he just got confused. Don’t spend all your time chasing them other boys though, y’hear? I haven’t seen a man as pretty as you since George Michael and us gals deserve a chance for once.”

“Hey, what about me, officer? I’m her brother,” Bruce seemed back to being completely unfazed. The officer laughed.

“Lose the beard and a couple of pounds and gimme a call, wiseass.”

“Will do. Thanks for stepping in with Chuck, ma’am, he seems like a good guy; we all just get a little riled up sometimes.”

“You kids have a nice day now.”

Kate, still on the verge of tears, began to slowly drive away, making sure to stay under the limit. She still felt cold and coiled tight, like a spring. She could still feel the man’s boot on her back like a phantom limb. A heat began to roil in her gut, anger that Bruce could put her in danger like that.

“Whoo, you see that blonde lady-cop, Katie?” Bruce wagged his eyebrows, pantomiming the shape of an hourglass with his hands.

“You coulda got me killed, asshole!” Kate reached out and hit Bruce on the shoulder, just hard enough to let him know she was serious.

“Hey, fuck you, Kate, I defended you,” Bruce shouted back, “you’re the one that was speeding, and that cop was just a dick.”

“No, dipshit, all cops are gonna be like that when you’re… like me,” Kate felt the anger keeping her from another wave of panic.

“Oh, there you go with your anti-cop bullshit,” Bruce sighed and looked away.

“You didn’t notice that they only let us go because the blonde one pointed out that we were white?” Kate shouted, “I almost got arrested! I got forced to the ground! I coulda gotten r-ra… seriously fucked up!”

“Nobody ever said white. You’re being paranoid again,” Bruce grumbled.

“She said, ‘we’re not thugs,’ Bruce. What do you think a ‘thug’ is to them?” Kate choked back a sob.

“Oh so all black people are thugs? Now who’s the racist?” Bruce had a look of smug satisfaction on his face, rather than concern.

“It’s called a dogwhistle, numbnuts,” Kate sighed, feeling miserable, exhausted, and utterly defeated, “whatever Bruce. You can afford to believe what you want because you’re straight and cis.”

“That ain’t fair, Kate,” Bruce wagged his finger at her, “I’ve always been kind to you, even when mom and dad weren’t okay with your choices. I had to argue with them sometimes when they’d talk shit behind your back. Don’t tell me I don’t know what it’s like to be trans.”

“You fucking don’t, though,” Kate muttered, “you’re not trans.”

“Yeah, but do you know how hard it is when your older brother, who you’ve looked up to, your whole life, is suddenly your sister, and suddenly you’re not protected anymore but the protector, and you have to argue with friends and family?” Bruce crosses his arms.

“Okay, Bruce. You’re right. You got it worse,” Kate sighed bitterly, letting too much venomous sarcasm creep into her voice.

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it,” Bruce growled bitterly, “I just mean I know how it feels.”

“Sure,” Kate sighed, swallowing the sarcasm this time. She just wanted to get home.

* * *

 

Dwight’s grip on her forearm pulled Kate back into safety and reality. The red and blue lights still flashed behind them, but looking up, Kate saw what Dwight was calling her attention to. The Shape, near one of the last houses on the street, was gazing into a window. The three skirted around him, but just as they vanished from sight, the Shape - Michael - turned his head and locked eyes with Kate.

Bursting into a sprint, she pulled David and Dwight along with her. Dwight wordlessly took the lead, guiding the trio towards the coordinates. They burst through a clearing in the woods and Dwight screeched to a halt and swore. There was no hint of any structures. Kate started wandering around, looking for something hidden.

“Dwight, are you sure it’s here?” she called out. There was no answer. She called again as she turned around, “David? Dwight?”

The Fog lingered, thick and ominous, where they had been taken for a trial. Kate swore as her vision tunneled and the air became thick like soup. She didn’t know how to get back home - she was so far into the woods now. Every noise - the chirping of insects, the cawing of the crows, the unfamiliar man’s voice through the trees - completely overwhelmed her. She staggered back against a tree as her breathing became a ragged struggle. She looked around her to get her bearings, and saw four unfamiliar faces emerge from the treeline. Choking down her panic, she plastered a fake smile on her face, though she could still feel her eyes bulging from her head, and her vision darted between the newcomers like a cornered rabbit.

It took a moment for any of the other people in the clearing to notice her, and when someone did, it was the small, meek-looking bluenette that seemed to lag behind the others. She jogged to catch up to a slightly taller woman who was walking with the talking man in the front, tugging on the sleeve of her hoodie. The taller woman glanced down at her with a look of annoyance, but stopped nonetheless.

“Maybe that girl over there can tell us where we are,” the small girl mumbled shyly, her voice easily carrying across the clearing despite its lack of confidence.

“Good idea, Suzie,” the shorter man, clearly the leader, turned towards Kate.


	7. The Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kate meets some new friends and we get the obvious Legion joke out of the way... or do we?

“Excuse me, sweetheart, do you know the way to the nearest town?” the young man smiled winningly at Kate. She could already tell she didn’t quite like this newcomer - something about him raised her hackles.

“Um, in fact, I do not, although the more the merrier in these parts,” Kate laughed nervously. The young man looked back at his companions. The one he called Suzie was nodding eagerly, the taller man shrugged, and the taller girl gave a single unimpressed nod.

“Alright, well you can come with us if you want. Seems everyone likes your vibes,” the shorter man extended his hand, “I’m Frank.”

“Kate Denson,” Kate shook his hand, and inspected hers when she felt something sticky. It was blood. Frank must have seen the surprise on her face, because he nodded, and the other man and the taller woman joined him at his side.

“Kate, this is Julie and Joey,” Frank introduced, “Legion, this is Kate. Now, Kate, we just had a bit of an altercation coming up here. You don’t have to worry about the blood.”

“Y’all had a - oh my goodness,” Kate laughed, “I wish David was still here, he’d love y’all. Is everyone okay? Did anyone get hurt?”

“We’re fine,” Julie snapped as Kate approached them.

“Thank you, Julie,” Frank chuckled, “don’t mind her. She’s kinda feral around strangers.”

“Fuck off, Frank,” Julie murmured. Kate wasn’t sure if it was just the Fog, but something dark seemed to pass over Frank’s face.

“Jules…” Suzie shuffled up to her, leaning into her side. Julie casually put her arm around Suzie.

“No, it’s fine,” Kate laughed goodnaturedly, “I weren’t trying to make a move on your gal, Suzie. I’m sorry if I invaded any boundaries.”

There was a bit of an awkward silence as Julie dropped her arm from Suzie’s shoulders, Suzie turned away and blushed, and Frank and Joey exchanged shocked looks. Frank laughed and threw his arms around Julie and Joey.

“No, these cute fucks are somehow mine,” Frank flashed a puppy-dog smile, “I think Julie was getting snippy because you’re so cute too, Kate.”

Kate laughed nervously, “I’m flattered, Frank, but I’m gay.”

“Me too!” Suzie smiled for the first time, her eyes lighting up, braces glinting in the moonlight.

“Kin,” Joey smirked as everyone else groaned.

“Okay, so nobody’s straight around here,” Frank shrugged, “that’s welcome news at least.”

“Well, shall we get a move on?” Kate gestured vaguely in the direction that she thought camp might be.

“Right! So judging by your accent, we’re stateside now?” Frank chatted as they followed along, Suzie trotting on Kate’s heels like a puppy.

“No way we made it across the border without crossing any major highways,” Julie shook her head, “and the only building we’ve come across was that weird house in the woods.”

Kate stopped in her tracks. Suzie bumped directly into her.

“Oops, my bad, Kate,” She mumbled.

“No, no, you’re fine, darling,” Kate put her hand gently on Suzie’s back, “um, what house did y’all see?”

“It was kinda tall and ramshackle. Looked like it was either falling apart or had just been slapped together,” Julie described, conflicting emotion riddling her face as she glanced between Kate and Suzie.

“Was it in the middle of a cornfield?” Kate got excited at the prospect of knowing where they were, “how close is it?”

“It’s like a couple hours’ walk behind us,” Julie gestured, “but it was in the middle of a clearing. It kinda looked like the trees around it had been cut down to build it.”

“Well shit. That doesn’t sound familiar,” Kate deflated, continuing the way she was going.

“Well, going back there wouldn’t take us closer to a town anyway,” Frank grouched.

“Nah, y’all ain’t gonna want to go to no towns around here anyway,” Kate warned.

“Kate, where are we, anyway?” Suzie asked.

“Hey, um, can we stop saying the word ‘anyway?’” Joey interjected, “it’s losing its meaning for me.”

“Sure thing,” Kate nodded, “Anyw- uh… in any case, that’s the bad news; I can’t tell you for sure. You did cross a border, but it weren’t into the States. So, silver linings. Anyw- uh, however, we’re in a realm that definitely ain’t Hell for many reasons, but it sure as shit seems like it is.”

“How did we end up here?” Suzie’s voice started to rise and she grasped, a little too tightly, onto Kate’s arm.

“Bad ass,” Joey murmured.

“Um… well, I have a guess. Everyone’s story is different, but there’s a… a theme. My pal Dwight was beaten to within an inch of his life, old Detective Tapp was bleeding out from a gut shot, I was about to commit suicide,” Kate took a deep breath, “the bad news is, you might not have won that little altercation.”

“Yo, what the fuck,” Joey said, still seeming a bit impressed by the situation.

“No, Kate, we definitely won that altercation,” Julie corrected.

“Kate, are we dead?” Suzie murmured, “I’m only eighteen. I don’t want to fucking die yet.”

“Hey, no, hon, you’re not dead,” Kate turned around and looked Suzie in the eye, “but I do have worse news.”

“What could possibly be worse news, dude?” Julie shouted.

“Julie, please,” Frank held his hand up, “Kate, thank you for telling us all this. What’s the worse news?”

“Oh, you ain’t gonna want to thank me after I tell you about the trials,” Kate sighed, “that’s where my pals that knew the way back went.”

“So like, not Hell, but Purgatory,” Frank interjected.

“No, there ain’t anything even remotely mentioning anything like this realm in any Abrahamic scriptures. Trust me, I would know,” Kate sighed again, “anyway, the trials. The Entity saved you from the brink of death, but that comes at a price. The Entity calls you to perform in these trials. To escape with your life, you have to repair generators to give power to exit gates.”

“Fuck, man, that blows. I don’t know how to repair a generator,” Joey crossed his arms.

“Neither do most of us. They’re really intuitive,” Kate reassured him, “but the really tricky part is that you have to do this while you’re being hunted by beings called the Hunters. Well, we call them the Killers, but they prefer the Hunters.”

“Has anyone ever died in the trials?” Suzie’s voice quivered.

“I… yeah, most of us have. Death ain’t so bad, it’s like being asleep, really. It’s the dying that hurts like fuck,” Kate rubbed her arm nervously.

“Bring it the fuck on,” Joey cracked his knuckles, “I’m not afraid to die, but the killer will be when I’m done with it.”

Kate laughed again, “man, David is gonna love you. That’s basically what he said.”

“So if there’s no town, where are we going?” Frank crossed his arms.

“Eh, we have a little camp set up. Most of the trials take place in places from the killers’ memories, and they’re clustered around something called the Bloodweb, so any buildings or structures could help us find our way. There are also campfires which I think are pocket dimensions, but Dwight thinks they’re around here somewhere. You go there before each trial.”

“Kate, I don’t wanna d-” Suzie started to say. Kate didn’t feel her hand on her arm anymore. She blinked and suddenly, she was standing at a campfire alongside a groggy Nea, an alert Quentin, and TV’s Jane Romero, who had disappeared the year Kate had been born.

“J-uh, excuse me, Miss Romero?” Kate called, a little starstruck.

“Who are you?” Jane called back in her perfect TV-host voice, “where am I?”


End file.
